Meesha's confusion deepened. "Revenge? What do you mean?" she asked, her voice laced with skepticism.

  The woman's face contorted in anguish as she began to explain. "Last night, when I was heading out with my daughter, a large truck suddenly came out of nowhere and hit her badly. It was like something out of a nightmare. The truck was speeding, and it didn't even stop after hitting her. It just kept going, leaving my daughter lying in a pool of blood."

  Meesha's eyes widened in good as the woman continued. "We rushed her to the hospital, but it was too late. Her legs were broken, and she was in excruciating pain. But that wasn't even the worst of it. As we were trying to get her to the hospital, another truck came speeding around the corner. It was like the universe was conspiring against us. The truck ran over my daughter's legs, squashing them like they were nothing. It was like something out of a horror movie."

  Meesha gasped, her eyes widening in horror. "Oh my God, that's terrible!" she exclaimed. She couldn't even bring herself to imagine the pain and suffering that the woman's daughter must have endured.

  The woman nodded, tears streaming down her face. "We went to almost all the hospitals in town, but everyone refused to treat her. Please, forgive us. She has suffered enough. She's in excruciating pain right now. She's in a wheelchair, and her legs...they're...they're beyond repair. She'll die if she doesn't get treated soon."

  Meesha felt a pang of pity as the woman spoke. She couldn't imagine what the woman and her daughter must be going through.

  "But I didn't do it," Meesha said, shaking her head.

  The woman was confused. "Really? You didn't do it?" she asked, her voice trembling.

  Meesha nodded. "No, I didn't."

  But Meesha knew exactly who did it. She said to the woman. "Please, excuse me."

  The woman's face lit up with hope as Meesha walked to a corner and pulled out her phone.

  Meesha dialed a number. As soon as the person on the other end picked up, Meesha asked, her voice hushed. "Xanqer, why did you do that to Sarah's aunt's daughter?"

  There was a pause on the other end of the line before Xanqer spoke. "I helped you get revenge."

  Meesha's eyes widened in shock. "But I didn't ask you to. I don't want revenge. Her daughter has suffered enough now. Can you please let them go?"

  Xanqer's voice was cold and unyielding. "Once I start a revenge, it must surely be completed."

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  Meesha felt a chill run down her spine. "But Xanqer, we can't just let her die."

  Xanqer's voice was unmoved. "She wanted you to die. Why don't you let her have a taste of her own medicine?"

  "But Xanqer—" Before Meesha could respond, Xanqer hung up the phone. Meesha was left standing there, feeling helpless and confused.

  Meesha turned to the woman and felt bad that she couldn't help her. The woman rushed to her, desperation etched on her face. "Who was that? Would my daughter be treated now?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

  Meesha shook her head, feeling a pang of guilt for not being able to help. She had to lie to the woman, not wanting to reveal Xanqer's involvement. "I don't know anything about it," she said, trying to sound convincing. "Maybe you should visit more hospitals. I'm sure they will be willing to help."

  Meesha quickly walked away, not wanting to prolong the conversation. She felt bad for the woman and her daughter, but she didn't know what else to do.

  As she drove home, Meesha couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. She knew that Xanqer had done something terrible, and she wasn't sure if she should be grateful or angry.

  When she reached home, she saw Xanqer sitting on the couch, his laptop open in front of him. He looked up as she approached, his eyes narrowing slightly.

  Meesha went to meet him, her heart pounding in her chest. "Xanqer, about what you did to her daughter…" Her voice trailed off as she saw Xanqer's expression. He wasn't listening to her. Instead, he was examining her face with a critical eye.

  "It's healing," he said, his voice detached. "You should apply the balm more consistently."

  Meesha felt a surge of frustration. Xanqer wasn't even listening to her. He was too busy examining her face.

  As Xanqer walked away, Meesha grabbed his arm, feeling a bit shy. "About what you did to her daughter,… thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Xanqer raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. Meesha nodded, smiling at him.

  Xanqer turned to Meesha, his face expressionless. "I just did what needed to be done," he said simply.

  Meesha nodded, still trying to process what had just happened. Xanqer turned and walked away, leaving Meesha feeling confused and uncertain.

  She watched him go, her mind racing with questions. Did he help her out of love, or was it just kindness? She didn't know, and she didn't want to overthink things. What if he didn't love her, and he had only helped her out of pity?

  Meesha sighed and sat down in the chair, propping her chin up with her hand. She stared out the window, lost in thought. She wondered if she would ever be able to tell Xanqer how she really felt about him.

  Just then, the doorbell rang, breaking the silence. Meesha got up to answer it, expecting it to be one of her staff members, but to her surprise, it was a delivery man holding a big box.

  "Hi, I have a delivery for Meesha Dasilva," he said with a smile.

  Meesha took the box, curious about what could be inside. She opened it to find a stuffed teddy bear and a heartfelt note of consolation from one of her fans.

  Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she read the note. It was so sweet of her fan to think of her like that.

  But before she could even process her emotions, the doorbell rang again. And again. And again.

  Meesha was shocked to find that she had a whole stream of delivery men coming to her door, each one bearing gifts from her fans.

  There were balms and creams to help her heal, flowers and chocolates to cheer her up, and even consolation money to help her through this tough time.

  Meesha was overwhelmed with emotion as she accepted each gift. She had no idea that her fans cared about her so much. She was just hit, not dead.

  Finally, after what felt like an hour of deliveries, Meesha sat down to take a break. She decided to post an update on her Instagram account to let her fans know that she was okay.

  "I'm okay now," she typed. "My face is already healing, and there's no need to worry. In less than a week, my pretty face will return back to normal. Thanks for the gifts, I appreciate them. Yours, Meesha."

  As soon as she posted it, her phone started buzzing with notifications. Meesha turned them off and started reading through the comments.

  "So glad to hear that you're okay, Meesha! We were all so worried about you"

  "Aww, thanks for the update, Meesha! We're all sending you love and positive vibes"

  "I'm so relieved to hear that you're healing well, Meesha! Take care of yourself"

  "You deserve all the love and support in the world, Meesha! We're all here for you"

  "Thanks for being so strong and brave, Meesha!

  "I'm so glad that you're okay, Meesha! We were all so scared for you"

  "You're the best, Meesha! Thanks for always being so honest and open with us"

  "Sending you all my love and positive vibes, Meesha! Get well soon."